


The Musician and The Doctor

by allofuswithwings



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Muse (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Humor, Innuendo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27666709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofuswithwings/pseuds/allofuswithwings
Summary: The Doctor gets his investigations interrupted by a nosy and peculiar musician that he's not sure how to handle.
Relationships: Matt Bellamy/Other(s)
Kudos: 4





	The Musician and The Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from Livejournal/Dreamwidth. Originally published September 2008.

The Doctor reached further into the electrical panel, sonic screwdriver clutched carefully between his teeth, pulling out more bundles of cabling to add to the several bunches he already had grasped under both arms and in one hand. The other hand sorted through the new cables quickly, passing some into his grip, and discarding others back into the tangled mess in front of him.

Reaching up to take hold of his screwdriver, he pressed the button down and pushed it against several groups of cables, simultaneously stripping them and attaching them to one another as he needed. Bit by bit, he disconnected and reconnected the electrical wirings for his own purposes, and then finally set them back into the panel and fiddling with a small display that was set into it.

The Doctor flicked a quick glance down the large, open corridor, surveying the few techs and roadies that were milling about further down by the musical equipment, ignoring him. After flashing his psychic paper earlier, saying he was technician for the stadium, they’d grunted an uninterested acceptance and left him alone. From what he could gather, there was some sort of concert being held here the next day, and they were all here for sound checks and so on.

The Doctor on the other hand, had detected some sort of strange, alien soundwaves emanating from somewhere in the vicinity of this stadium, and had come to investigate after reports of local disturbances of machinery, computers and even animals. He figured he could use the auditory capabilities of this place to help track where exactly it was coming from, though he might have to upset the concert sound check for a little while as he did so.

He pressed his sonic screwdriver against the display panel, fiddling with several buttons, before letting out a triumphant cry as it readjusted its settings to enable the detection he needed. Realising his voice sounded loud in these large corridors, he glanced up anxiously to see if anyone had noticed. The roadies and techs were still ignoring him, chatting and leaning up against the walls and amps.

But then he spotted a wiry, dark-haired man, much better dressed than the other crew, whose piercing blue eyes had become fixed on the Doctor in curiosity. He had a strangely lithe and awkward frame, though a confidence and charisma about him reflected in his eyes and facial features. The Doctor returned the sharp stare for a few moments, but the man made no efforts to move from his current position, and the Doctor returned to his work on the panel.

Talking to himself, he browsed through various options and settings on the display, occasionally adjusting with his sonic screwdriver to find the right frequency to pick up any anomalies in the vicinity. After several attempts, he let out an exasperated sigh, before reaching back into the mess of cables to try again. He was clawing back and forth, arm jammed in between the bundles, when he heard a slight shuffle of footsteps from behind him.

“Need help?”

The Doctor hastily removed his arm, pulling out a few cables by accident on the way through, as he turned to face whoever was addressing him. He was met with the inquisitive and slightly amused features of the mysterious man who’d been watching him a moment ago from down the corridor.

“What? Oh. Right, no,” the Doctor replied quickly, shoving the cables back in clumsily. “Just, ah, doing some maintenance before the big show tomorrow. All under control.”

The man’s azure eyes slowly surveyed the mess of wiring patched together haphazardly, and a cheeky grin spread across his face. Seeing his scepticism, the Doctor fumbled about in his pockets for a moment to pull out his psychic paper, flashing it up and turning back to the panel again to resume his work.

“I’m the Doctor, part of the Audio Inspection Unit at this facility,” he said absently, prying at the cables again, matching blue with red. “Completely routine work, should be done in about half an hour, nothing to worry about. And I’ll clear up all this before I’m done, don’t worry.”

The man was silent for a moment as the Doctor worked, pressing with his screwdriver again and frowning.

“But it doesn’t say anything, there’s nothing on that.”

The Doctor turned his head vaguely, only half-listening, trying to work out which cables he needed to adjust.

“Hmm?” he murmured.

The man stepped closer, and the Doctor could hear his soft breaths behind him.

“Your ID, there’s nothing there,” he repeated. “It’s blank.”

The Doctor stopped, flicking his head around and pulling out his psychic paper again, opening it out. He looked at the man carefully, furrowing his brow.

“Really...?” he asked, puzzled. “It doesn’t say _The Doctor, Audio Inspection Unit Authorisation_? Or something like that?”

The man shook his head, raising an eyebrow and looking at the paper suspiciously. The Doctor took off his glasses and looked more closely at this unusual, curious man in front of him.

“Sorry, who are you?” the Doctor asked.

The man reached out a hand, grasping the Doctor’s own to shake it gently, his eyes still never leaving the Time Lord’s face. He smiled flirtatiously, tipping his head.

“My name’s Matt, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Doctor,” he replied.

For a moment, the Doctor was a little taken aback by Matt’s audacious attitude; the glimmer in his eyes, the grin on his lips and the warmth in his handshake were simply screaming his attraction. Then the Doctor composed himself, slipping his hand from Matt’s grip and standing up straighter.

“Are you part of Torchwood, or Unit? What kind of psychic training have you had? Why are you here?” the Doctor questioned.

Matt quirked an eyebrow, still smiling, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’m here because it’s my band that’s playing in this stadium tomorrow night. I’m a musician, not part of Torchwood, or Unit, or any of them,” he answered. “They’re a right pain in the arse actually. Always blocking my attempts to find more out about you, no matter how much money I throw at them.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows went up at this, and then he frowned in confusion.

“I actually wasn’t even sure you really existed, because it was so hard to find out any information once I’d heard the rumours,” Matt continued. “But you’re him, though, aren’t you? The man scattered through time, apparently never aging, appearing at important historical events or catastrophes. The Doctor. With the blue box.”

Thoroughly confused and equally intrigued, the Doctor ceased all his activities on the electrical panel and popped his sonic screwdriver back into his jacket pocket. He returned his glasses back onto his face and then mirrored Matt’s stance, folding his arms across his chest.

“You seem to know enough about me though, so if you’re not with Torchwood, then who are you?” the Doctor asked. “Is it LINDA? Did they train you to subvert psychic paper?”

Matt was the one to look confused now, and he shook his head.

“No, but I did speak to them, nice bunch. And psychic paper...what is that? I don’t even know what you mean,” he said. “I’m just someone who just happens to find you very interesting.”

He stepped forward, dropping his arms from his chest and pressing a hand against the wall beside the Doctor. He flashed a mischievous smile, his eyes roving the Doctor’s form slowly through long lashes, making it obvious what he was doing. The Doctor flushed slightly and swallowed, running his hand through his hair nervously at the highly forward nature of Matt’s approach to him. He supposed he should be used to it by now, what with the apparent attractiveness of this regeneration, but usually it was from young females, with the notable exception of Captain Jack. _This_ , he was not expecting.

“Oh. Well, thank you,” he managed to finally get out.

He’d planned to continue on with some petty excuse of why he had to get back to work, but Matt interrupted him, not willing to let him go just yet.

“You know, you’re much more good-looking in person than the photos I’ve seen. They weren’t very good quality, I know, because you’re so hard to track down, but still,” Matt said. “And the people who’ve met you never really mentioned it either. Maybe you’re just not their type.”

“Yeah, maybe,” the Doctor replied, his pitch higher from his uneasiness. “ _Anyway_ , I really should get back to what I was doing, I was kind of in the middle of something important...”

Intrigued, Matt stepped closer still, brushing against the Doctor no doubt deliberately, as he peered inside the electrical panel to see what was going on. Not making head nor tail of it, he turned his attention back to the Doctor, their faces close now against the open panel, that illuminated them eerily with a soft blue light. The Doctor had pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket again to set back to work, and Matt’s gaze wandered to its slender form in his hand, his eyes darkening.

“You know, I always _thought_ you were alien; with you appearing across time and happening to show up at any sign of strange goings-on,” Matt murmured, a smile playing on his lips. “And I don’t think an instrument like that can be found anywhere on Earth. The files I read mentioned you having a screwdriver with all sorts of special functions. Looks like quite a tool you’ve got there.”

At these words, Matt reached a hand up to close over the Doctor’s that clutched the screwdriver, his touch soft and sensual. His fingers wandered up to wrap around the long, silver shaft, and the palm of his hand still brushing against the top of the Doctor’s knuckles. His blue eyes bored into the Doctor’s own shocked pair, which widened both at his words and his actions, swallowing visibly.

As Matt’s thumb brushed its way up toward the blue tip of the screwdriver, the Doctor’s eyes bulged and he drew in a startled breath, the instrument slipping from his grip and clattering to the floor. Matt grinned, his hand still on the Doctor’s, and he pressed closer to murmur to him.

“Let me get that for you,” he said softly.

Dropping to his knees, Matt collected the screwdriver from the floor, and then at a deliberate pace, began a slow draw up the Doctor’s body to return to his former position. The Doctor felt his hearts race and cheeks burn as the musician undressed him conspicuously with his eyes, and at his utterly flagrant sexual attraction. A heady mix of pheromones and testosterone flooded the Doctor’s sharp senses, and he found he was having a hard time not getting affected by their potency.

Matt pushed his hand against the Doctor’s still open one, pressing the sonic screwdriver into his grip again, his eyes becoming fixed on the Time Lord’s once more. His pupils dilated further and his other hand came back up to rest against the wall next to the Doctor’s head, essentially pinning him there. The Doctor flicked an anxious glance down the corridor, but all the road crew had dispersed, leaving the two of them alone.

“You should handle your instruments with care, otherwise you might break them,” Matt said, his tone laced with suggestion. “I know mine always do well with a gentle touch.”

He smiled in amusement at the Doctor’s bewildered and shocked expression, and didn’t remove his hand from its current position in handing over the screwdriver, his fingers moving gently against those of the Doctor. The Doctor then managed to snap himself out of the trance, taking the instrument fully into his grip and away from Matt’s hand, before turning about and staring back into the electrical panel.

Much to his dismay, this did not deter the eager musician, who remained in the same close proximity behind him, his laboured breaths and radiating pheromones all too apparent to the Doctor’s keen senses. He didn’t understand where this had come from, why humans always got so bloody _obsessed_ with him, and why they didn’t back off when he tried to let them down gently.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to meet an alien. Thought it would be exciting, interesting to see what they knew, where they’d been,” Matt said from behind him. “Thought they could show me things I hadn’t seen before, give me some memorable experiences...”

The Doctor tried to concentrate on fixing up the damn wiring in this panel, but every time he tried to rearrange the cables, Matt’s presence and words would distract him and he forgot what he was doing. He was ashamed to find his hands shaking and slippery, obviously affected by the sexual advances of this attractive man, which in itself was unusual. He was normally so composed and detached with this sort of thing; able to take control of the situation and rebuff their attempts at seduction. But right now, it wasn’t working.

“What do you reckon, Doctor?” Matt continued. “Think you could do that for me?”

Taking off his glasses, the Doctor turned around to find Matt right up against him again, and he started slightly at the intimacy and fiery look in Matt’s eyes.

“Sorry, what?” the Doctor gulped, his voice tight.

A sly grin spread across Matt’s face, and his hands now came to rest gently on the Doctor’s arms, fingers fidgeting and curious.

“I always wondered if physical interaction would be any different. Although you look outwardly to have the same attributes as humans, so it might not,” Matt mused. “Only one way to find out, I suppose.”

Before the Doctor had a chance to react, Matt slipped one hand up behind the Doctor’s neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss, sealing his lips over the Doctor’s mouth and sliding a wet tongue inside. He kissed him hard, fervently, his body pressing the Doctor up flat against the concrete wall next to the electrical panel and other hand gripped to the collar of his suit jacket. Matt’s tongue moved with lust and purpose, exploring the Doctor’s mouth quickly but thoroughly, and his head tipped and angled in synchronicity to his motions.

The Doctor found himself unable to fight the advance, though he was utterly perplexed as to why that would be, considering he wasn’t usually one to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh that often. But Matt’s hot, stimulated human body felt surprisingly good against his own, making his two hearts beat faster and breath stolen from his lungs. Though he himself had no problem using his respiratory bypass system, he was amazed at how little air Matt needed while kissing him, especially so deeply and passionately. The strange things humans did continued to astound and impress him, even after all these years.

His eyebrows arched, and an involuntary grunt escaped his throat as Matt pressed his body harder against the Doctor, his pelvis thrust forward to make evident the true extent of his excitement. It was a strange sensation to feel this hard length pushing into him, because this regeneration had undergone very little use in terms of physical intimacy, and especially not with a male partner. In all honesty, the Doctor could tell his body was crying out for it, and therefore was only slightly surprised to find himself stiffly responding to Matt.

Matt’s kisses now slowed slightly, reigning in some of his intensity to deliver longer, deeper rhythms with his mouth. The hand on the Doctor’s collar loosened its grip and slid up his throat to join the other at the side of his neck, before pushing them both up to hold the Doctor’s head in his hands as he kissed him. His tongue was still wet and probing, curling around the Doctor’s in a languid dance, hungry for the novel experience.

The Doctor found Matt’s mouth sweet and intriguing, a new territory to explore, and began to participate in the interaction more actively than before. He flicked his tongue down and away from Matt’s, to trace a line along his teeth and across the inside of Matt’s bottom lip, before taking it between his own lips. He gave it a couple of slow sucks before returning with his tongue to lick across Matt’s mouth and back inside, eliciting a groan from the musician that sent a hot shiver through the Doctor.

He shifted one hand to shove his screwdriver back in his pocket and then moved it around to slide across Matt’s lower back, the other slipping upward to hold behind Matt’s neck as they kissed. With this better grip, he pulled Matt harder against him, acutely aware of the sensations that the friction of their bodies generated, and enjoying every moment of it. Matt too seemed invigorated by it, and the Doctor could sense the feverish energy that was overtaking him the longer they kissed and groped.

“Oi, Matt!”

The intrusion of a foreign voice startled both of them, breaking them apart, with Matt breathing hard and hands still gripped on the Doctor. They turned to look at the source, which turned out to be a blonde, similarly well-dressed fellow standing several metres away down the corridor. The Doctor didn’t recognise him, but evidently Matt did, as he threw him a slightly amused, innocent look.

“Sound check, five minutes, okay?” the blonde said, a wry smile curling on his lips.

The completely unperturbed attitude of this man toward the scene before him, told the Doctor that this sort of behaviour was evidently not out of place for Matt in his everyday life. The Doctor didn’t know whether to be amused or affronted.

“Okay, be right there,” Matt replied.

The blonde then disappeared down the corridor, and Matt turned his attentions back to the Doctor. He captured his mouth in another heavy kiss, tongue more desperate now, and his hands began a wandering grope over the Doctor’s body. This only continued for a moment or so before one hand strayed between the Doctor’s legs, and splayed over the hard mound found there, pressing down. Matt broke their kiss as the Doctor groaned softly, and his gaze came to settle back on the Doctor’s with longing.

“I wish we had more time,” Matt murmured, slowly massaging with every word from his lips. “Even ten minutes would have been enough for a quick shag in the dressing room.”

The Doctor swallowed, eyelids heavy with need, and his mouth hung open slightly as Matt talked and touched. His body felt so fired up and aching from this encounter, he didn’t want it to stop, and was definitely open to any new experiences Matt wanted to try. But then Matt’s motions slowed, and he reluctantly removed his hand from between the Doctor’s legs and slid it up his body to rest at his chin.

“Well, actually...”

The Doctor was cut off by a low rumble of audio devices being plugged in and switched on somewhere further away in the building, and Matt glanced down the corridor before looking back at him, smiling sadly.

“Maybe next time, alien boy,” he said.

Matt pressed a last, hot kiss to the Doctor’s lips, with just the slip of a tongue, before pulling away and heading off down the corridor in a slow job. Disappointed and dumbfounded, the Doctor watched him go, unable to move or call out. After a moment, some semblance of thought returned, and he sighed, speaking out loud to himself in the empty halls.

“But I have a time machine...”

  



End file.
